


Just One Night

by Red_Tremor



Category: Doctor Strange (2016)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Passion, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29502765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Tremor/pseuds/Red_Tremor
Summary: Broken and empty after the death of Vision, Wanda Maximoff seeks the companionship of an acquaintance on a rainy night in New York City. But how will the mysterious and powerful Doctor Stephen Strange greet her? What will happen when the door to the Sanctum opens, and Wanda is welcomed inside? Will she find healing, or pain and rejection?
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff & Stephen Strange
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Just One Night

The aftermath had been horrible.  
Friends tried to comfort her, of course. But their words rang hollow. What the hell did they know, these people who were rejoicing because everyone they’d loved and treasured and missed had been restored to them.  
Only Clint understood, kind of. But he was caught up in the joy of being reunited with his wife and children and barely took her calls anymore. 

Vision was dead.  
Wanda knew in some abstract way that most of the world would never even have considered him to be ‘alive’ in the first place. But she didn’t care. She didn’t give a good goddamn what the world thought. He had been alive. She had loved him. And he had loved her. 

They’d even been physically intimate. Wanda didn’t expect that it would be possible, of course. He was what Dr. Banner had once called a ‘superbot’ after all. A robot. A facsimile of a man, not a real human being. So the possibility of making love was, she thought, off the table. But Vision had phasing abilities of which she never dreamed, and he was creative. He’d shyly taken her into his arms one night in Boston during a precious three-day tryst and whispered that he wanted to ‘love her properly’. 

She’d had no idea what he meant until they were naked in bed together. It was her first time. He was precise, elegant. All the while it was happening, she’d kept her eyes closed and just held onto him. Letting the illusion be real. WILLING it to be real. 

He didn’t sleep afterwards, of course. She did, wrapped in his arms. Waking every so often to find him lying beside her with his beautiful eyes trained on the ceiling. She’d often wondered what those eyes were made of. What his body was made of. The only thing she’d never questioned was the validity of his emotions. She knew he had loved her. Whatever divine magic breathed a soul into a machine, she didn’t doubt its presence. Vision had loved her. Wanda had loved him back. They had loved one another. And no one truly understood that fact. No one. Not even Tony. 

God, Tony. He’d died a martyr, a hero’s death on that battlefield. Snapping Thanos and his forces out of existence and killing himself in the process. Gods, heroes, warriors, even a sorcerer had knelt and bowed their heads in reverence at his sacrifice. Wanda herself had knelt. Weeping, her shoulders shaking. And she’d only been dimly aware of a hand on her back a little while later, steadying her.  
So comforting, that deep voice. Controlled. Disciplined. Not pitying her, not at all. Not doing her that disservice, not insulting her. He’d simply told her to be strong.  
And she had been.  
Vision would have wanted her to be. 

Tonight, she stood in the street under the onslaught of a cold soaking rain outside the door of the man who had placed his scarred hand on her back that terrible day. The man she had not spoken to since. Yes, she’d seen Stephen Strange at the funeral of course. But they hadn’t really acknowledged one another. Everyone was caught up in their own grief at the time. It was too painful for words. 

Wanda wiped the rainwater from her face and, shivering, made her way up the few steps to the door of 177A Bleecker Street. It hadn’t been easy to find him. Even the reporters who thirsted for information on everyone there that day had trouble finding the elusive Dr. Strange. But Steve Rogers had been able to pull a few strings and get the man’s address, told her what to look for. The Sanctum was all but invisible to anyone not expressly seeking it. Designed that way to deter casual visitors.  
Wanda was anything but casual. 

She’d risen from her bed an hour ago, wracked by yet another nightmare, and reached for her coat instead of the usual bottle of wine. She needed more than just the hazy warm oblivion of drink. She needed strength. She had friends in New York, of course. People she loved and trusted. But she didn’t feel like waking any of them in the middle of the night to cry about Vision again. Who else could she go to? Pepper? Hell no. Tony’s widow needed her rest. She was healing too. Bruce? She barely knew him, and anyway he was off traveling. Steve? Also off the grid, an old man living out the last of his days in blissful peace somewhere upstate. 

So here she was now. Wanda stood in the freezing rain with a trench coat thrown on over her nightgown, her bare feet shoved into boots and her hair a bedraggled mess, lifting her pale white hand to rap on the door of the Sanctum. The cab driver who brought her there hadn’t even batted an eye at the state of her attire, probably assuming that she was just some college student doing the walk of shame at midnight. 

*Tap, tap, tap*

Would the good Doctor even be awake? Would he even hear her? Did wizards sleep?  
Wanda didn’t know.  
But she had no one else to turn to. No one else she felt like turning to, anyway. 

There was silence. Just the pounding of the rain on the pavement behind her. And then, just as she was about to turn and walk away, a click and creak sounded from within, and the heavy door was opened. 

“May I help you?” 

The speaker was a slim young girl in her teens, wearing a white linen dress and a blue apron. Wanda wasn’t expecting a woman to answer the door. She thought Stephen Strange lived alone. 

“Is....is the Doctor here? I’m sorry. I know it’s late....”

“Come in out of the rain, Miss Maximoff. It’s a cold night, you’ll catch your death out there.” The girl said, stepping back. Without asking how she knew her name, Wanda immediately entered the warm front hall. Simply grateful to be out of the wet night. The young woman closed the door. 

“I’m sorry.” Wanda said again. “He’s probably asleep. I shouldn’t have come. If you could just let me dry off a little, I’ll go. I can call a cab.” 

“He seldom sleeps these days. I’ll tell him you’re here. Please, come sit by the fire. May I offer you something to eat or drink?”

“I’m alright.” Wanda lied, and she followed the girl into the broad flagstone foyer. A roaring fire was going in the hearth, and with a sigh of relief she sank down onto the velvet covered sofa in front of it. The young lady drew a soft blanket out of a wooden chest by the wall, bringing it to Wanda to drape around her shoulders. 

“My name is Holly. I’m Master Strange’s personal servant. It’s my job to see to the needs of his guests. I’ll bring you some brandy and a little food to warm you up before you speak with him. Relax here for a bit. I won’t be long.”

Then she was vanishing into the shadows, and Wanda was left alone in the big room. She felt inexplicably exhausted, and deeply uncomfortable. What had possessed her to come HERE of all places? She barely knew this man. He had never given her the impression that he was particularly warm or compassionate. She hugged the blanket around herself and stared into the fire, shivering. Anywhere was better than her apartment, where the absence of Vision was felt in every square inch of every single room. It took her a few minutes to look around her and appreciate the artistry of her surroundings. Dark mahogany paneling on the walls, comfortable sofas and love seats and chairs set here and there in little clusters, book shelves full of tomes. Some of them fitfully glowing. Artwork on the walls, far too old and intricate to be reproductions. Statuary on pedestals or shelves. It was a beautiful, arcane place that smelled of incense and books and some exotic spice that she could not identify. 

Holly returned after about ten minutes, bearing a tray in her hands that she set down on the small coffee table in front of the sofa where Wanda sat. A bottle of brandy, two clean glasses turned upside down on a folded white napkin, and a charcuterie plate with olives, cheese, bread and meat lined up neatly. Wanda suddenly realized that she was actually hungry. How many days had it been since her last proper meal? She reached shyly for a piece of bread and a chunk of cheese.

“Thank you. It’s nice to receive hospitality from strangers.”

“The Sanctum is a haven from the troubles of the world, Miss Maximoff. I’ll let my Master know that you’re here now.” 

The girl bowed, and a moment later she was vanishing on soundless feet. 

Wanda hesitated, then poured herself a small glass of brandy. Not much, but a little more than she should have had on an empty stomach. It was exceptionally fine, an expensive variety she’d never tasted before, smoky and dark and rich. She drank a few sips, then a few more. Eating steadily at the same time. Filling the emptiness in her stomach that she was suddenly very keenly aware of. The food was half gone and she’d drunk nearly an ounce and a half of brandy before she finally pushed aside the tray and set down her glass, feeling better. 

“God, what am I doing here?” She said aloud, and began to shrug off the blanket. Intending to leave. 

“I’m assuming you’re here to see me.” Stephen Strange’s voice came softly from somewhere behind her, causing her to jump. He stepped into the light, casually dressed in dark flannel pants and a gray t-shirt, the silver streaks at his temples glinting in the firelight. Wanda reflexively rose to her feet, turning to face this man whom she had not been so close to since that day on the battlefield.

“Stephen.”

“Wanda. How can I help you?”

“I don’t actually know. I had a nightmare. And you were nice to me. I...maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

“Nonsense. You’re welcome here, of course. Please sit down, make yourself comfortable. Would you like something more substantial to eat? You seem famished.”

“I haven’t eaten in....awhile.”

His eyes were pale green or pale blue. She couldn’t tell. But they were intense, trained on her face without judgment or disgust. He turned towards the darkness behind him, addressing someone unseen. 

“Holly. Please pick up some Russian takeout from the deli around the corner.”

“Yes sir.” 

Stephen turned back to look down at Wanda, but it was impossible to read his expression. Was he upset that she was here? He looked calm and unsurprised to see her. Not upset in the least. He took a seat in the armchair slightly to her left, leaning forward to pick up the other glass and pour a little brandy into it. 

“Are you warm enough? We have dry clothing you could wear, if you would like.”

“I already feel like I’m imposing.”

“You aren’t, I assure you.” He took a sip of the drink and then set it aside, rising to his feet again and gesturing toward the stairs. “Come with me. I’ll show you where you can change. I’m afraid you’ll need to wear something of mine. We don’t have much in the way of women’s clothes here at the Sanctum, and I doubt anything of Holly’s would fit you.”

“Thank you, Stephen. Doctor. You...really don’t mind?”

“I want to make sure that you’re comfortable.” 

They walked together up a broad staircase, then took a left at the top of the stairs and headed down a resplendent hallway decorated with more paintings. Torches, actual literal torches, burned in brackets on either side. Wanda felt disheveled and cold in her soaked nightgown and coat, the blanket clutched in her hands to offer her at least a little warmth. Stephen led her to a room at the far end, opening the door and allowing her to step inside. 

It was the master bedroom. Another fire going in the hearth, a large king sized bed against one wall with a deep blue comforter. Glass doors leading out to a balcony slightly ajar to let in a little fresh air. It was still raining. Stephen moved to the doors and closed them, shutting out the cold and the night. He moved to a large oak dresser and opened a few drawers, pulling out a pair of flannel pants with a drawstring waist, warm socks, a black t-shirt. These, he held out to her and nodded to the door of his private bathroom. 

“You can change in there. Then we can talk in the library, if you like. Or downstairs, or here. Wherever you wish.”

“I don’t know what to say other than thank you. You barely know me, and you’re being kinder to me than anyone has been in a long time.” Wanda accepted the bundle of clothing, looking up at him. 

“Whatever it is that brought you here on a night like this must be important. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”

“You think of us as friends?”

“Of course. We went through something together that most people can’t even imagine. No, we haven’t spoken at length or spent time together. But you were invaluable on that battlefield. We couldn’t have been victorious without you.”

He was so cordial. So polite.  
She remembered the shining portals, the feeling of seeing one open in the clearing where she suddenly found herself alive and alone. An unsmiling Asian man stepping through it to gesture to her, telling her that there was no time. She was needed. Rushing through it. Facing down Thanos, attacking him because goddammit he’d taken EVERYTHING from her. She had never hated anyone or anything so much in all her life. The hollowness and agony still simmered in her chest. And she was sad, and a little drunk, and cold, and being shown comfort and compassion by about the last person in the universe she expected to be troubling on a rainy night in November. Tears began to fill her eyes. She was shaking. 

“I...I’m not ok...”

Stephen’s hand on her shoulder was gentle. His voice gentle when he spoke to her. 

“I know. Get changed. I’ll wait for you right here.”

“We can stay in your room if that’s ok. It’s nice here. Leave the balcony doors open? I want to smell the rain. VIsion always loved the rain. He said it was a miracle. HE was the miracle. And he’s dead. Vision is dead. We were lovers. He’s dead.” 

She knew how stupid she sounded, how stupid she probably looked. Trembling and clutching the sorcerer’s clothes to her chest, tears streaming down her puffy face and her hair a wet scraggly mess. But she didn’t care. The tears had finally come, and they couldn’t be stopped. Graceful as always, Stephen didn’t make her feel embarrassed for the emotional outburst. He drew her into his arms and embraced her tightly. God, he was so warm. She wasn’t used to being embraced by someone with warm skin. Vision had held her a hundred times. His skin, his body, were neutral in temperature. His skin felt real enough. He himself was real enough. But his body temperature was always the same as that of the room around them. Wanda started to cry harder, clinging to Doctor Strange as though he were the last lifeboat departing from a sinking vessel. He rubbed her back, his voice dropping to a whisper. 

“Easy now. It’s alright. Let it out. You can let it out now. It’s safe.”

It was like opening a floodgate. Wanda sobbed until she was weak, only dimly aware of Stephen catching her before her knees gave out. He picked her up and carried her to the loveseat in front of the fireplace, and laid her down on it. Her wet clothes sticking to her skin. She cried, covering her face with her hands, dizzy and ashamed and miserable. 

Holly arrived a little while later, paper bags that smelled heartrendingly familiar in her hands, and if she was surprised to find Wanda in her Master’s bedroom now she did not show it. Stephen quietly left the room as Holly helped Wanda out of her coat and nightgown and dressed her in the warm dry clothing. Set out the Russian feast on a little side table and dragged it over to her. Rubbed her feet, encased them in warm socks, covered her legs with a soft white blanket from Nepal. Brushed her hair and put it into a braid down her back. Even wiped her tear-stained face with a damp cloth. The girl murmured gentle words to her, but Wanda hardly caught them. It was finally coming out, all of it. Like pus from an infected wound. The agony, the loneliness, the sorrow and the anger and the desperation and the longing. She hid her face in her hands and cried until she couldn’t cry anymore. Until her eyes were red and swollen and she finally quieted down in front of the fireplace with the blanket over her legs. She wiped her nose on a napkin, hiccuping.

Stephen leaned against the dresser nearby, quietly waiting for her to finish. When she looked up and spotted him, she was embarrassed and angry at herself. But his face held no judgment. He came to her, sitting down on the low bench at the end of his bed, near the love seat where she sat but not joining her there. He didn’t come too close, allowing her to have her space as she grieved. But he did lean forward to take the Styrofoam containers out of the bag and open them before her, unwrapping a fork and laying it beside the food. 

He said nothing. Wanda didn’t either. She didn’t even know what to say, where to begin. There was food, and she was hungry. So she ate. And for a long while, Stephen Strange simply watched her and did not say a word. 

Finally, her hunger was sated. Wanda set aside the plastic cutlery and wiped her mouth, looking at him guiltily. 

“I’ve kind of made a fool of myself, haven’t I.”

“No. You’re in mourning.”

“I loved him, Doctor.”

“I know. And he loved you.”

This only made her tear up again. She didn’t know what she was doing here, or how it might help. All she knew was that she needed to be here with this quiet, disciplined man who sat nearby with his hands folded in his lap and didn’t push her to talk. Wanda wiped her eyes, her breath coming in hitches in her chest as she calmed down. 

“We all lost people.” She said.

“I know. I was one of the Lost. Just as you were. But we came back.”

“Because of Bruce. And we stayed here because of Tony.” 

“Yes.”

Wanda folded her legs under her and looked into the fire. Just gaining control of herself again by degrees. 

“You touched my back that day. On the battlefield. You told me to be strong.”

“I remember. And you were.”

“I don’t feel very strong right now.”

“A secret between friends. You will regain your strength soon enough. Wanda, I’ve been exhausted and emotional too. I have also had sleepless nights. Tonight is one of them.”

Finally, Wanda raised her face to look fully at the man nearby. He was handsome and careworn, and he did look tired. Her heart felt tight in her chest for a moment as she read the lines in his face and the stiffness of his posture. He was suffering too. Maybe not as much as she was...but who can put a value on suffering? She pushed one of the half-empty containers toward him, biting her lip.

“Try some. They’re a kind of pancake, I guess. It’s called a bliny. And these are kotlety. Sort of like meatballs.” 

She speared one with the fork, holding it out to him. After a moment’s hesitation, he accepted the utensil and bit into the food, nodding as he chewed. 

“I’ve never tried them before. Not bad, not bad at all. Have you ever cooked these yourself?”

“All the time at home. Not so much here. I mean, I always had takeout. And Vis didn’t ever need to eat. So there was no need.”

Stephen picked up a napkin and carefully wiped his goatee, then folded it and laid it down next to the box. He leaned forward and took one of her hands in both of his. She could feel the rough scars on his fingers, evidence of the accident she’d heard about. The one that ended his career as a surgeon and began his career as a sorcerer. She didn’t pull away. Somehow...she needed this. She needed this human contact. 

“Do you want to talk about him, Wanda?”

Without meaning to, she blurted out her deepest heart’s desire. 

“Can you bring him back?”

“No. I don’t think even Tony could have done that. Vision was special. Unique. A result of the tinkering and inspiration of many people. He became a man all his own, different from any...”

“Say that again.” 

Doctor Strange blinked, then he patted her hand.

“He became a man all his own, Wanda. Vision was a man. He was a real, living man with a soul and a mind. He was alive. And he loved you.”

“No one’s...” Wanda couldn’t speak. She closed her eyes, just holding onto that hand. “No one’s ever really acknowledged that. I mean not with those words. He was just a machine to everyone.”

“Not to Tony. Not to me. Not to you. He was a man. He was a Stonekeeper, like I was. And he was your lover. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Wanda hadn’t heard these words before. They warmed her and hurt her at the same time. She opened her eyes again. 

“Why am I here?”

Stephen sighed, then he slipped his hands from hers and reached for the bottle of brandy, which Holly had brought to them at some point while Wanda had been distracted with crying. He poured a few inches into a clean glass and handed it to her, and Wanda accepted the drink even though she was already feeling fuzzy and slightly disoriented. 

“You’re here because you are miserable, and your heart is broken, and this place attracts the broken. You are here because you hoped I could restore something lost to you. You’re here because you only live two miles away, and it’s a short cab ride. You’re here because I was there for you on the day Tony died and Vision died and we achieved victory over Thanos. You’re here because you needed to be with another warrior who was there on that battlefield on that day at that time and who suffered the same fears and the same injuries and who defeated the same enemy. Wanda...it’s alright that you came to me. I’ve been expecting you.”

“You...you were?”

“Yes.”

She swallowed the rest of the drink and put the glass on the floor, lying back on the loveseat. Her head a whirl of confusion. 

“He was my first, you know.”

Stephen didn’t respond, not that she expected him to. It was probably a wildly inappropriate thing to say. She knew that. It was weird to talk about sex with a robot, even a robot who had achieved sentience. Who was more than a machine. She looked into the flames again, the tears drying on her cheeks. 

“Vision was my first lover. I’m sure that sounds sick or weird to you. I’m not embarrassed. We were in love. I BELIEVED him. He said that he loved me., I believed that he did, I believed that he had a heart and a mind that weren’t just algorithms and programming. I believe that his independent heart and mind chose to love me, and I believe that when we made love it was real. I don’t care what anyone thinks.”

“You haven’t asked me what I think.”

“I know what everyone thinks.”

“Oh? I wasn’t aware that your interesting powers included mind reading.”

Was he mocking her? She shifted her eyes to him, but his expression was serious. No hint of sarcasm or humor. 

“I just...I know what I would have thought if I didn’t know him. I know what I would have thought if someone told me they had sex with a computer.”

“But you didn’t. You had a loving relationship with a being who began as artificial intelligence, and transcended his initial state to become more than his creator dreamed. As we all do.”

Wanda slowly sat up, her eyes riveted to Stephen’s face. Stunned by his words. Touched by them. She didn’t know what to say or how to feel. Didn’t know where to even begin to explain how much his statement meant to her. Suddenly, she felt closer to this dignified, distant stranger than she had ever felt to anyone else in her life except Vis. 

“You really....understand?”

“Of course. The multiverse holds many forms of life, not all of them strictly flesh and bone and blood. Vision was alive. He was your lover. I understand that much. I’ve been in love before as well, I know what it feels like.” He was the one to avert his eyes now, looking down at his damaged hands. “I know how much it hurts when it ends.”

They sat together in silence, the fire crackling. The door closed. Holly off somewhere doing whatever it was that servants did at night. The world around them asleep. The Sanctum a fortress of safety and solitude. 

Wanda picked up a napkin and wiped her eyes, sighing.

“This has been so hard on so many people. I’m sorry I’m so caught up in my own misery.”

“You keep apologizing. Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for. Mourning isn’t pleasant, and it’s not a fast and clean process. Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything else?”

“I feel a little dizzy.” 

“I’ll have Holly make up the guest room. You can rest if you like.”

“You’re being so good to me. Thank you, Stephen. I didn’t even realize how much I needed this. I guess everyone was wrong about you.”

Oh God, why did she blurt out something stupid and insulting like that? Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she covered her mouth with one hand. 

“I’m so sorry! I don’t know why I said that.”

Stephen gave her a wintery smile, unperturbed. 

“I’m aware that I have a certain reputation for being cold and unapproachable. Maybe even arrogant. I won’t deny what I’ve earned. But I’m a lot different than I was before the accident. You wouldn’t have liked me much back then. I didn’t care about anyone but myself. My reputation. My cars, my wealth, my awards. It was an empty life, Wanda. I wasn’t a good man. I think I am now.”

“You are. You’re exactly who I needed to see tonight. You...really don’t mind if I spend the night?”

“Of course not, Wanda. If you feel safe and soothed by these surroundings, then you may stay as long as you like.”

“I don’t want any more brandy. And I’m finally full. But it feels good to just sit here with you.”

“Then you may sit with me as long as you wish.”

They were quiet together.

Wanda glanced at him from time to time as he stared into the fire. After about fifteen minutes or so, there was a tap on the door. He must have ways to summon his staff without lifting a finger. 

“Enter.”

The door opened once more, and Holly slipped into the room. She lowered her head in deference. 

“You sent for me, Master?”

“Please make up the guest room down the hall for Miss Maximoff. She’ll be spending the night.” 

“Yes sir. Shall I send out for fresh clothing?”

“That won’t be necessary. Her apartment isn’t far off, and she can wear something of mine in the interim. Thank you, Holly. You are indispensable.”

“Serving you and your guests is an honor, Master Strange.”

After Holly had gone, Wanda leaned forward and touched Stephen’s knee. 

“You don’t have to be this kind to me.”

“I’m aware. I don’t have to be cruel to you either.”

“I just...I miss him. I miss being talked to. I miss the sound of his voice. I miss his arms around me. I miss intimacy. I miss connection. I miss everything. I loved him with all my heart.”

Stephen hesitated, then gently laid his hand on top of hers. Again, she was struck by how warm his flesh was. How wonderfully warm and soft. 

“You’ve been through too much for anyone to adequately handle, Wanda. Give yourself time to heal. Time to learn how to live again without Vision in your life. You’re a beautiful woman. Perhaps in time you will....”

“Don’t even SAY it. Don’t even THINK it!” She found herself snapping, pulling her hand away. The sorcerer fell silent, simply bowing his head in acknowledgment of her wishes. Immediately, she felt bad for speaking to him that way. But the thought was ludicrous. She could never replace Vision, not in her heart and not in her bed. 

There was a long, awkward silence. But Stephen didn’t break it. Finally, after God knows how much time had passed, he cleared his throat delicately. 

“You must be exhausted. I’ll show you to your room if you’d like. Please feel free to sleep as long as you wish. No one will disturb you here. Whenever you awaken, I’ll have Holly bring you some breakfast. If you would like to spend another night, you’re welcome to. I would advise that you fetch a few changes of clothing from home if you intend to stay more than two nights, though. While my clothing is clean and warm, it’s unavoidably large on you. I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I’m....sorry. For what I said.”

“You aren’t, and you don’t need to be. You’re in pain. I understand. Wanda, I have felt pain too. Immense pain. I know what it is. You won’t find anger in me, not at you for your outpouring of grief.”

She didn’t know what to say to this. 

He led her out of his bedroom and down the hall, to a beautifully enameled door on the left which he opened to reveal a pleasant bedroom with a double bed against one wall. Book shelves and a writing desk, a small fireplace with a clean fire going in the grate. It was cozy and nice-smelling, and there was a set of pajamas laid out on the bed. Too large for her. They must be his. But they would do. She picked them up and carried them into the bathroom, laying them on the counter and kneeling by the bath tub. It was gorgeous, as all things in this house were. 

She turned on the water, filling the bath, and stripped off the clean borrowed clothing she wore. She could wear it again in the morning. She sighed with pleasure as she sank into the tub up to her shoulders, closing her eyes and tilting her head back to wet her hair. There was soap, shampoo, even conditioner in small bottles neatly lined up on the sill. Wanda used them all, cleaning herself thoroughly. It had been a few days since she’d bathed, too. But God did it feel good to do so now. 

Only when the water began to cool an hour later did she finally pull the plug in the drain and climb out, reaching for a fluffy towel to dry off. After that, she dressed in the pajamas and padded into the bedroom to climb under the blankets. She was asleep within moments, finally succumbing to the emotional and physical weariness that had been troubling her for months. 

***********

Wanda’s eyes opened some time later. The fire had burned down to embers, but the room was still warm and cozy. She felt good. Peaceful and safe. Rested. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. But then it came back to her. The walk in the rain, the cab ride, the dark haired wizard with the gentle, sad eyes who had extended his hospitality. The food and drink. 

She sighed, turning her head to survey the room. And her heart caught in her throat when she beheld a figure in the corner. 

It was Vision. 

She stared at him silently, frozen in place. Then she threw back the covers and ran to him, stopping just short of flinging her arms around his body. Realization lanced painfully through her as they looked at one another.

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I. You’re not really here.”

He took her hands in his, and they were cool and smooth just like she remembered. His eyes, whatever they were made of, were gentle. 

“No, my darling.” 

Wanda bit her lip. She felt like crying. When the dream-Vision reached for her, she fell into his arms and hugged him tightly. 

“I miss you so much!”

“I know. But Wanda, it’s time to let me go. You have so much ahead of you. I love you. I will always love you. If the universe is kind, we will find one another again somehow.”

“I can’t do this.”

“You must. My love, you must. You are human, and human beings need connection.”

“I don’t want to connect with anyone but you!” She was crying openly now, clinging to him. Tenderly, he held her at arms’ length and looked into her eyes. 

“Wanda. Wanda, you do. You do want to connect. You miss connection. If you were not, you wouldn’t be having this dream....”

********

Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up. Tears still drying on her cheeks. She was alone in the bedroom at the Sanctum, and this time she was one hundred percent certain that she was awake. She even pinched herself to be sure. 

The dream. It made her heart ache. She was shaking. Her body, her mind, even her heart were trembling with anticipation and fear and longing as she pushed aside the blankets and stumbled to her feet. Feeling empty and yet strangely anticipatory. 

It had been a blessing of sorts. A giving of permission, an exhortation to reach out and reach out and reach out some more. There was nothing else she could do now. 

Wanda moved to the door and pushed it soundlessly open, stepping into the chilly hallway beyond. It was still dark, still night. The Sanctum slept. She did not. And she made her way down the hallway with a hand on the wall to guide her. 

Stephen’s bedroom door was not locked. It eased wide on well oiled hinges as she turned the handle and stepped inside, and swung shut behind her with a soft click. 

Connection. 

**********

The fire in Stephen’s hearth was still bright and strong, no doubt augmented by magic. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Wanda moved soundlessly across the room. Her bare feet sinking into the warm soft carpet. When she reached the bed, she stopped to look down at the man who lay there with his eyes closed, one hand on his bare chest and the other beneath the covers on his stomach. He was breathing steadily, and did not wake immediately. 

This was madness. This was crossing a line. This was taking advantage of his hospitality. But she was so lonely and so desperate for contact and he was handsome and kind and self disciplined. Stern and aloof yet gentle. In many ways, he reminded her of Vision. 

Slowly, she began to lean down.....

.....only to find something velvety yet strong as steel wrap itself around her mouth and body. Holding her immobile and pinning her arms to her sides. She struggled, and her hands began to glow with red luminescence. The fabric thing smacked her sharply against the back of the head. Not over-hard. It was more of a warning than a blow meant to injure. She gasped, making a muffled cry. 

Stephen’s eyes opened, and he sat up. Blinking a few times as he surveyed the scene before him. 

“Wanda? What...Levi, let her go. It’s alright. She’s not a threat.” 

The Cloak reluctantly loosened around her, floating sulkily back to the corner by the fireplace. But she could still feel herself being watched closely by the uncanny relic. She rubbed the back of her head, feeling foolish and excruciatingly embarrassed. 

Stephen was drawing back the covers and climbing out of bed, reaching for his pajama top.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Your cape is a bit overprotective.”

“He’s a Cloak, not a cape.” There was a pause. He buttoned his shirt, staring at her. Seemingly at a loss for words. The first and only time she’d seen him at a loss for anything. 

Wanda backed up as he took a step toward her, and he stopped short, running a hand through his hair to straighten it. Hesitating. 

“Did you have another nightmare?”

“Not exactly. I just....”

Stephen waited patiently, watching her face as she sought for the words she wanted to use. Finally, she lowered her gaze. A blush rising to her cheeks. 

“I’m lonely.” She whispered. 

“Would you like me to sit with you for a little while? I could send for some tea.”

“No, I...I want you to...to hold me.”

To his credit, Stephen didn’t laugh at her. He didn’t sternly tell her to go back to bed, either. And he didn’t press his obvious advantage and pull her against him roughly. He held back, his hands at his sides, considering her. 

“Wanda...”

“Please.” She hated how desperate her voice sounded. But she couldn’t help it. A great, dark, aching need was filling her heart and her mind and her body. She reached for him. After a moment’s further pause, his arms moved around her and he hugged her tightly. His body was warm and firm and alive, and Wanda buried her face in the curve of his neck and just breathed in his scent. A lingering aroma of expensive aftershave and the smoky-sweet smell of incense. Old books and clean skin. And something else. Something human and real. Tears filled her eyes. She was shaking. 

She kissed his throat, closing her eyes. 

“This isn’t what you want. You’re upset, and you’re in pain.” 

She could feel the vibration of his voice against her lips. But she didn’t want to let go or pull away. She couldn’t. Stephen was suddenly more important to her than air or food or water or the agony in her chest. Her hands clutched the soft fabric of his pajama top and she kissed his neck again. Then she was unbuttoning his shirt.

His scarred hands stopped her, he held both of them in a gentle grip and pushed her back slightly to look down into her eyes.  
Beautiful eyes. Blue or green, somewhere between those colors, and pale and wide-set and full of intelligence. There was no anger in those eyes. 

“Stop. Stop, Wanda. I won’t take advantage of you. Not like this. Not when you’re grieving and not thinking clearly.”

“I’m thinking clearly. Clear enough, anyway. Dammit, don’t make me feel like some weak broken little thing. I know what I’m doing. Is it something else? Am I ugly? Repulsive?”

“Of course not. That’s not it at all.” 

“How long, Stephen? How long has it been since the last time you were with a woman?”

He sighed, averting his gaze. 

“Eleven years, seven months, two weeks and three days.”

Wanda, despite her current emotional state, nevertheless burst out laughing. 

“That’s pretty specific.”

He smiled a little sheepishly and stepped back, leading her by the hand to the couch again. 

“It’s the eidetic memory. Can’t be helped. Am I correct in assuming you’ve only...?”

“Yes. It was just him. I’ve never been with anyone else.”

Stephen rose to his feet and moved to kneel by a small mini fridge near the desk. He withdrew two bottles of chilled water and returned to sit beside her, handing her one. 

Wanda opened it and took a drink, letting the cool liquid soothe her throat. She was still raw from crying earlier. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m the sort of man who would use a young lady for my own pleasure. Especially not when she’s in mourning for someone else.”

“I’d never think that about you.” 

He held his own bottle in his hands between his knees, leaning forward and looking into the fire. Wanda let him think for a few minutes, biting her lip. Waiting for....what? She didn’t know. But she wasn’t confused and she wasn’t out of her mind. She was still in mourning, yes. Stephen was right. 

And it was time to move past the grief now. The dream had closed some vital and stinging wound in her heart. She needed to cement it with action. Anyone else in the world seemed to be the wrong choice for her first fumbling intimacy since Vision. But Doctor Stephen Strange was different. He was safe, she knew that. Honorable. Self disciplined. Discreet. Compassionate, hopefully. Loving, maybe. Gentle? She could hope.

Wanda reached over and laid her palm on his thigh. He turned his head to look at her, and the firelight glinted in those pale eyes and caused her throat to constrict. 

“Stephen. I want you to make love to me. I’m not asking for a commitment. I’m not asking you to change your life. I’m asking for just one night.”

“I don’t work that way. If we do this, then it matters. Sex isn’t recreation, not to me. It’s serious. I’ll want to know there’s a connection with you.”

“Do you think we could have a connection?”

Now it was his turn to contemplate the situation. For a long time, he just looked at her. Then, slowly and deliberately, he set his water bottle on the coffee table and put his hand on top of hers. 

“I think we could.”

“We both have powers we can’t control, after all.”

“Actually, that’s just you. I’m in full control of my abilities.”

Wanda squeezed her eyes shut, embarrassed. Stephen chuckled softly and lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to its palm.

“No need to be embarrassed. I could teach you how to control your powers a bit better.”

“You could?”

“Of course. It’s all about self discipline.”

She opened her eyes, and he was smiling gently at her. Her hand still in his. With uncertainty and shyness, she reached up to touch the unfamiliar-familiar cheek with her other hand.

“Will you kiss me?”

“Are you absolutely certain that this is what you want? Is this maybe the real reason you came here tonight?”

“I think it is.”

Stephen raised his hand now, and his fingertips were tender against her face. Wanda closed her eyes. He moved closer, and she felt his breath against her lips. 

“When you want to stop, just tell me. I’ll stop. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t attracted to you, Wanda. I always have been. But I know what you’ve been through. You’re in control tonight. You decide how far this goes.”

“I don’t want to be in control.” She whispered, not opening her eyes. “I want you to kiss me, Stephen. And I want to spend the night in your bed. I need this. Touch me. Fill the emptiness in my heart. My whole soul feels empty. I need you.”

His hands were strong on her shoulders, but his voice was gentle. 

“You can stay. Everything will be alright.”

Then the most wonderful feeling tingled through her whole body as his lips pressed against hers, the soft tickle of his facial hair brushing her cheek. Her arms moved around him, and he returned the embrace. He was not forceful or greedy as he kissed her. He tasted wonderful, smelled wonderful, felt wonderful. And he was warm. So warm. Once, twice, three times he kissed her. When the kisses began to deepen, it was Wanda and not Stephen who initiated the greater intensity. It was clear that he was allowing her to decide the pace of the sensual journey they were about to embark upon together. 

When they broke apart, Wanda was breathing a little faster. A nervous flutter in her chest and stomach. She rested her forehead against his, petting his cheek with one hand. 

“Should we....get into bed?”

Stephen glanced toward his bed, then back to her. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. 

“If we’re going to do this, there’s no need to rush it. You deserve more than some dirty Sanctum weekend.”

At this, they both laughed. The tension melting. When Stephen gently urged her to her feet and took her by the hand, she followed him out onto the balcony. The sky was velvet black overhead, only a little light pollution emanating from the distant city of New York. She rested her palms on the railing, looking up at that beautiful dark sky with its gaudy smattering of stars. Behind her, the tall sorcerer reached around to also take hold of the railing. His chest warm against her back, his voice warm against her ear. 

“Not a bad view, is it?”

“It’s gorgeous. You must love living here.”

“I do. But sometimes it’s too silent. It can get lonely.”

“I certainly know how that feels. The first few months after I came back and Vision didn’t were a living hell. The apartment was too quiet. Too big.”

Stephen gently hugged her, and she turned around in his arms to look up at him. This close, she could count every eyelash. It felt good to be held like this. But tears were forming in her eyes again, and she began to tremble. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You must think I’m a complete flake.” She closed her eyes and put her cheek against his shoulder, and he stroked her long hair. 

“You’re not a flake, Wanda. Not even remotely. Listen, I think that making love tonight would be a mistake. I’m not ruling it out in the future. But you need to ease into physicality again, not jump in with both feet just because you think you should.”

“Maybe you’re right.” She wiped her streaming eyes on the hem of the pajama top she wore, taking a breath and releasing it in a shuddering sigh. “I might be moving too fast. I just...I want you. No one else right now. I trust you, Stephen.”

“I’ll never give you a reason not to. You’re welcome to sleep beside me tonight. Tomorrow too, if you like. As many nights as you want.”

“That’s a pretty generous offer. How do you know I don’t snore or hog the blankets?”

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take, seeing as you’re gambling with the same risks.”

She smiled and reached up to stroke the silver hair at his left temple. 

“There’s no way you snore, and I bet you’re a complete gentleman in bed. Everything about you is dignified and noble. Honestly, I can’t even imagine you going to the bathroom.”

“Well, there’s not really a need to when you’ve mastered the mystic arts. Nothing more annoying than being deeply immersed in a book only to have your bladder interrupt your concentration. It’s easy enough to just whisk away the waste, keep studying.”

“Ok, that might be the weirdest and most intimate detail I’ve ever heard anyone share.” Wanda was laughing again, and it felt good to laugh. She hadn’t so much as smiled for so long that her face actually ached a little from all the mirth on this impossibly bizarre and wonderful night. “So wizards don’t pee, huh? You’re kind of quirky, you know. I find it charming.”

“I’m nothing if not weird. You’ll learn that rather quickly.”

“You’re handsome, brilliant, powerful, famous and obviously not wanting for money. Why is it that eleven years have passed since the last time you took a woman to bed? Your dance card should be full every night.”

Stephen’s smile faded. He stepped back from her, raising his eyes to watch the progress of a distant satellite. 

“Like I said; sex isn’t just recreational to me. It’s not something casual. My life is too complicated to form any real bonds with normal women. I’m afraid I’d make a terrible boyfriend. Haven’t much time for dating, anyway. So it’s a solitary position.”

He looked sad, and Wanda’s heart went out to him. She certainly understood what it was to have a complicated and dangerous existence. One that didn’t leave much room for a social life. Tenderly, she took both of his hands in hers. 

“Would you grant me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Let me be the one to decide if you’re a terrible boyfriend, ok?”

He fixed his gaze on her face, looking from eye to eye as though searching for something. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for that, Wanda? This is a big step, and your loss is still fairly fresh.”

“What, you think we should wait another eleven years?”

“Not what I meant, but I appreciate that smart mouth of yours.”

“Kiss me again, then. It makes the pain go away. And you’re an amazing kisser for someone who doesn’t do it enough.”

Then their arms were around each other once more, and his lips were on hers and there was nothing more to say for the moment. She liked that she had to stand on tiptoe to kiss him properly. He was perhaps an inch taller than Vision had been. And while the tender cyborg’s kisses were each precise and gentle and exactly the same, Stephen’s were deep, intense, mercurial. The pressure varied, there was no telling what the next kiss would be like. 

Goosebumps were prickling her skin, and not just due to the after-chill of the recent rains. Stephen felt them beneath his hands. He reluctantly broke off the kiss and rubbed her back.

“Let’s get you inside. You’ve got to be cold and exhausted.”

“I haven’t slept well for months. It’s going to feel so good to have you next to me in bed.”

He took her hand and led her back into the dimly lit bedroom. There was another moment of hesitation when they moved to stand by the bed. A pause, a glance as though to ascertain that yes, this was indeed what she wanted. When Wanda nodded, Stephen drew back the covers and climbed in. He moved over to make room for his guest, and Wanda joined him beneath the blankets. It was warm, and she eased into his arms. 

“Stephen?”

“Mm?”

“You said earlier that you’ve always been attracted to me. Was that true?”

“Of course. What man in his right mind wouldn’t be? You’re fierce and intelligent. You’re kind, you have a good sense of humor. Not to mention you’re also quite beautiful.”

“I noticed you too. I mean, I didn’t really let myself feel any kind of romantic emotions. Because of Vision. But I always thought you were extremely attractive.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“Do you remember Tony’s funeral?”

“Sometimes I wish I could forget that it ever happened. What a tragic end to a brilliant career.”

“It was. But he died a hero. I remember how haunted you looked, standing there with that Asian man.”

“Wong.”

“We were never formally introduced. He seemed nice though. You both looked very striking in your suits. I almost didn’t recognize you without the Cloak and the blue robes. Your fashion sense is unusual.”

“For New York, maybe. Not for Kamar Taj. The color and style of the tunic denotes rank. It’s also easier to do battle, more freedom of movement.”

“What does your tunic signify?”

“Grand Master. Sorcerer Supreme.”

“You’re the one in charge, then?”

“Of Kamar Taj. Not of you.”

Wanda undid the top button of his pajama shirt, and this time he didn’t stop her. Slowly, she unfastened the rest of them. She sat up, and he did as well. Together, wordlessly, they eased his shirt off and then lay down again. Close and intimate beneath the silky sheets and brocade comforter. It was a surprise to her, how neatly their bodies fit together. After a moment, Wanda propped herself up on one elbow and bent her head to kiss the bare flesh over his heart. He softly stroked her hair as she did this, and she trailed kisses across his chest. 

“Your skin is so warm.” She whispered, brushing her lips against his sternum. “Vis was room temperature, always. It took some getting used to.”

“I’m...not him, Wanda.”

She raised her eyes to meet his, looking a little guilty.

“I know. I guess it’s going to be hard to keep from making comparisons the first few times. It sounds so odd to say that I’ve never done this with a human before.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Are you?”

Stephen looked perfect in the firelight. Pale and muscular, and his expression was thoughtful. 

“I don’t sleep much. And the current activities and company are a bit diverting, to say the least.”

Wanda moved below the covers a bit, kissing his stomach. His damaged hands easy on her shoulders. This was more than just doing what felt good. This was exploring her own limitations as well as seeing how far he would let her go. His body was toned from the martial arts training, and she shivered pleasantly when her lips pressed against his flat abdomen. She was not the only one who shivered. The sorcerer’s muscles rippled tensely beneath her ministrations. He touched her cheek, stilling her movements. 

“Come lie down beside me. I’ll hold you, and you can get some rest. I will guard your dreams.”

She didn’t argue with him. It was wonderful to move up and snuggle against his side, his strong arm around her to cradle her to his chest. Softly, in the dark, Wanda could feel his heart beating against her cheek. 

She’d never felt that before. 

“Goodnight Stephen.”

“Goodnight, Wanda. Sleep well. I’ve got you.”

**************

Wanda awoke late the next morning, and she was alone in Stephen Strange’s bed. It was light that had awakened her, a bright and cheerful burst of sunshine streaming in through the suddenly opened balcony curtains. Holly turned around to face her after opening them, and she bowed slightly. 

“Miss Maximoff, good morning. I’ve brought you breakfast, and I can draw you a bath if you like. Master Strange has already risen and bathed and eaten, and he’s in his study. He told me to tell you to take your time and relax, and come find him whenever you’re ready.”

Wanda felt a little sheepish, found in Stephen’s bed like this. But Holly looked unperturbed. 

“Um...thanks. I am a little hungry. And a bath sounds terrific. I can’t remember the last time I actually soaked in a tub. Do you...do all this for Stephen too?”

“What happens between Master Strange and I in private is for him to reveal, if he wishes.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just...his hands are so damaged. I bet you have to help him with a lot of things, like bathing and dressing.”

Holly said nothing, turning away to indicate a loaded breakfast tray on the coffee table. Then she walked to the bathroom, and knelt to begin filling the bath tub.  
Wanda had to hand it to her, the girl was a perfect servant. Discreet and polite and professional. Her curiosity grew, and as she slid out of bed and padded over to inspect the food on the tray, she addressed the slim teenager in the other room. 

“How long have you worked for him?”

“Since I was twelve years old. I will continue to serve him to the best of my abilities for the rest of my life, or until he dismisses me.”

“You’re really close then, I guess. Do you have a little crush on him? You must.”

Holly looked over her shoulder, fixing Wanda with a pair of beautiful hazel green eyes.

“I love him. He is my Master, and he always will be. You are his friend. That makes you important as well, Miss Maximoff. Please don’t ask me these questions. I can’t answer them. What he and I are to one another is our business. I am far too young to entertain romantic notions about anyone. I focus on my work, and on keeping the Sorcerer Supreme as comfortable as possible. Now please eat something. And then come to the bath. I can wash your hair for you.”

It was all the girl needed to say. Wanda let the matter drop, turning her attention to the food before her. Dark warm bread, cheese, hard boiled eggs, fresh butter, a bowl of fruit...it was exactly the sort of breakfast she’d have eaten during her childhood. Comfort food. She hugged the borrowed sleep shirt around her and dug in, sampling a bit of everything. As with the night before, she was surprised to find that she was actually hungry. It had been a long time since she’d felt, well, normal like this. She’d slept deeply, and now she was eating a good meal for the second time in twelve hours. 

When she’d finished, she wandered into the bathroom where the filled tub waited. Holly had set a towel on the warming rack in easy reach, and clean flannel pants and a tshirt on the counter. A washcloth lay spread out on the rim of the tub, with a bar of fresh soap, a razor, and the bottles of shampoo and conditioner lined up on it. Holly gave a brief bow and gestured to the cabinet beside the sink. 

“There’s deodorant, lotion, powder and other items you might need in there, should you want them. Later on, when you’re ready, I can call a car to take you back to your apartment. Master Strange indicated that you might be staying with us for a few days. You may want to pack some belongings to make yourself more comfortable. Would you like me to give you a bit of privacy now? Or do you prefer company?”

“I wouldn’t mind the company, honestly. Been alone too often and too long, I guess.”

Holly actually smiled briefly, a soft and sweet expression on her normally composed face. She turned away as Wanda disrobed, only turning around again politely when the other woman had situated herself beneath the creamy discretion of the bubbles. 

Wanda sighed with pleasure as the heat relaxed every muscle in her body. 

“I’m sorry about what happened to Vision. He was a legend.”

It was unexpected, to hear Holly say these words. Jarring, even. 

“I know. I loved him. We were actually lovers, you know. He was human enough to feel love. To be in love. And he chose me.”

“It’s an honor to be chosen by a powerful being. You must have meant a great deal to him. You actually made love?”

“Yes. We figured it out.” Wanda dunked under to wet her hair, and when she came up she was slightly taken aback to find Holly next to the tub, pouring shampoo into her hands. But she didn’t protest when the girl began to work the fragrant suds into her hair. It felt good. Unbelievably good. “You do this for him, don’t you. It feels amazing. He must absolutely treasure you.”

Holly’s fingernails scratched Wanda’s scalp pleasantly, and her perfume was subtle and floral and innocent. God, she could get used to this level of pampering. 

“I do.” Holly finally admitted. She tilted Wanda forward a little to massage the back of her neck. “My Master works very hard, and he is very lonely. Touch-starved. Receiving even a little kindness goes a long way towards alleviating that. Miss Maximoff, I’m sorry but I have to ask. Are you here to satiate some fleeting obsession, or because you genuinely feel an attraction to him? He’s very important to me, and to the world. I won’t have him misused.”

“I know what it must look like. I’m not here just for, you know, just for that. I completely understand that women probably try to get close to Stephen for all the wrong reasons a lot...”

“You have no idea.”

“Holly, I’m not one of them.”

The girl gently tilted her head back, rinsing her hair with a silver pitcher kept beside the tub. Wanda couldn’t help but imagine Stephen enjoying the same treatment. 

“I can only hope for his sake that you’re not. But I’ll take your words at face value. He apparently trusts you. He must. It’s not often that he allows anyone to sleep beside him. Master Strange is a very private man.”

“He’s wonderful. I’m really grateful to you both for your hospitality.”

After Holly washed her hair, the young girl sat demurely on the floor by the tub while Wanda shaved her legs and soaped herself thoroughly. Squeaky clean and feeling better than she had in months, she finally climbed out of the bath and allowed Holly to wrap her in the warm towel. Then it was time to inspect Stephen’s grooming cabinet for the supplies she needed. She helped herself to his deodorant and lotion and a little gel for her hair. She’d brought no makeup with her, but she didn’t really wear it much these days. A bit later, dressed comfortably in his pants and tshirt, warm socks on her small feet, Wanda found herself being shown to what Holly described as ‘the Master’s favorite study’. 

Stephen was seated behind a large mahogany desk when Wanda entered, and he looked up as she shyly drew near. He was in his customary robes, Levi floating nearby at the ready. 

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone in bed this morning. You looked so peaceful, and Heaven only knows how long it’s been since you had a good night’s sleep. I trust that Holly has seen to your needs?” His voice was just as soft and deep and soothing as it had been last night. Wanda sank into a chair before the desk and drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them. She felt subdued and even a little awed in the presence of this man in whose arms she’d spent the night. He sat back, pushing aside the book he’d been reading to focus his attention on her. 

“She gave me a bath.” Wanda laughed slightly, shaking her head. “It was the sweetest thing. She’s a remarkable young lady.”

Stephen nodded, smiling slightly. 

“I’d be lost without her. When Kamar Taj announced that they were sending me a hand trained servant, I initially said absolutely not. But I relented when I met her in Kathmandu. A serious girl of twelve, very deferential and capable even at that age. I could see the potential in her to be very valuable to me. About a week after she arrived here, there was a vicious thunderstorm. I thought for certain that she would be terrified. New surroundings and basically alone in the house and all that.” 

He toyed with a bookmark, running his scarred fingers over the tassel. His expression was far-off, remembering.

“I opened my bedroom door, meaning to go to her and comfort her if necessary. She was just a child, after all. And my responsibility. But there she was standing outside my bedroom door, a tray with hot chocolate and fresh cookies in her hands, looking surprised that I’d flung open the door before she knocked. ‘I thought you might be upset by the storm’, she said, ‘So I brought you some food and drink.’ I invited her in, we talked and drank hot coco and ate cookies and laughed together. I was pleased with her, immensely pleased. Her wit and humor and intelligence. At last, it grew late. The storm was still raging. She slept in my bed that night. Innocently, of course. Just a small shape under the blankets beside me. I held her hand. That was the night we bonded. Father, brother, mentor, master...I don’t know what I am to her from day to day. But I love her, and I protect her, and she serves me with unswerving loyalty.”

Wanda didn’t know what to say to this. What would happen when the girl came of age? She had no idea. But that was still a few years off, and right now was what mattered. Right now was what was important. 

“I want to spend the night with you again, Stephen.” She said. He tilted his head, regarding her. 

“I want that too, Wanda. Let me send for a driver, have you taken back to your apartment so you can pack a bag. Would you like to stay the week?”

“I’d like that.”

He leaned across the desk, reaching for her hand. And she gave it to him. An odd and beautiful pain in her throat. 

“I’ll send for the car now, then.” He picked up the telephone from its cradle and dialed, and after a few seconds he simply said “One for pick up.” 

When he set the phone down again, he rose to his feet and came around the desk. Wanda looked up at him wordlessly as he stood over her, tall and perfect and strong and stern and solid. Gently, he cupped her chin. 

“Tonight will be comforting and relaxing. You’ve been through entirely too much. I want to make sure that you have a bit of respite from all that. Would you like to go out? Or do you prefer to stay in?”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Stephen?”

He smiled, nodding once. 

“I am. Has it been awhile since you’ve gone on a date?”

“Ages. Vis and I didn’t go out much. He didn’t need to eat, after all. So dinner was out. And he found most films to be boring. We took long walks together, that was our usual evening.”

“Dinner and a film it is then. Anything in particular you’d like to see?” 

He was drawing her to her feet, leading her toward the door so she could be ready when the car came. On the way down the stairs, Wanda tried to recall any advertisements for movies she’d been interested in over the past few weeks. Nothing came to mind. 

“What about an old movie? Something black and white in a little out of the way theater someplace? And dinner wherever you want.”

Her coat had been cleaned and dried, and her nightgown as well. The latter was folded in a bag on the table near the door, and her coat hung on a hook by the exit. Stephen took it down and held it open for her to slip her arms through. When she turned around, he put his hands on her shoulders. 

“I know just the place. A film noir house in Manhattan. Do you like Thai food?”

Wanda nodded. There was a respectful tap at the door, and Stephen opened it to find the driver, dressed smartly in a dark colored uniform. 

“I guess I’ll see you tonight then? And I’ll...I’ll bring a bag. If you really are ok with my spending the night again.”

Stephen leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips, sending a thrill through her whole body. 

“I’m completely ok with it. As I said before, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. When you’re ready to come back, just give me a call and I’ll send the car.” 

He handed her a card with his number on it, and she immediately tucked it into her coat pocket. Then it was time to leave, and she was walking down the front steps of the Sanctum in sunlight instead of up them in the cold driving rain. She settled into the back of the car. Within twenty minutes, they were pulling smoothly up in front of her modest brownstone apartment, and she got out and darted inside before any of her gossipy neighbors could see her wearing a man’s clothing and no makeup. When she was safely in her apartment, she closed the door and leaned against it. 

She felt giddy, butterflies in her stomach and a warmth in her chest that her body barely remembered but nevertheless recognized. It was happiness. It was the tingle of a crush forming. Something magical, lighting her deadened senses in a way she didn’t think would ever happen again. 

Wanda tried not to look at the pictures of Vision she had sitting in frames here and there. He was gone. He was dead. He wasn’t coming back, and she had no reason to feel the sudden pang of guilt that dampened her pleasure. It hurt, missing his gentle voice and his quirky sense of humor and his gaze. But this wasn’t wrong. Developing feelings for Stephen wasn’t wrong. 

She sighed deeply and moved into her bedroom to put on some makeup and pack a few outfits. A nice dress for tonight, her first date in over a year. The closet was filled with modest, fairly plain and comfortable clothing. Nothing flashy or sexy, really. But she found a tight red dress that she’d worn once on an anniversary, and the matching red stilettos. Definitely eye catching. She hoped that Stephen would like the way she looked in it. A few pairs of jeans, some sweaters, pajamas, socks, underwear, her makeup bag and shampoo and conditioner and brush. Perfume. Tonight was going to be wonderful. 

At last, her bag packed and sitting on the floor at the end of her bed, Wanda took off the clothing Stephen had loaned her and carried it to the washing machine. She’d take a nap while they were being cleaned. Best not to seem too eager to get back to the Sanctum, even though she wanted to be there more than anything right now. She climbed into bed and cuddled up under the covers, closing her eyes. 

*****************

By the time Wanda finally awoke, feeling rested and happy, it was late afternoon. Time for a light lunch and maybe some television as she waited for the clothes to go through a drying cycle. She changed into dark jeans and a green blouse for the return trip, then reheated some leftover Chinese food and ate it on the couch while she watched the news. Nothing interesting, just the usual political scandals and Hollywood hype. Her eyes kept sliding to the clock on the wall. Too soon? Four o’clock came and went. Then five. Still too soon? 

At six, she couldn’t take it anymore. She pulled out Stephen’s number and dialed it, her tummy full of pterodactyls now and not butterflies. After three rings, the phone was answered. 

“The Sanctum.” Came a smooth female voice. Wanda clutched the phone a little tighter. 

“Holly? It’s Wanda. Could you send the car?”

“Absolutely, Miss Maximoff. It will be there shortly. We’ll await your arrival.” 

“Thank you. I really appreciate this, Holly. See you tonight.”

She hung up, and then it was time to grab her bag and check her makeup and run downstairs and out to the curb to wait. Her heart pounding in her chest. The wait wasn’t long, and soon enough the black Lincoln she remembered was pulling up in front of her. No ride in her life ever seemed so long. 

The Sanctum was exactly as she remembered it. Holly opened the front door and took her bag from her with a bow. 

“Master Strange is in his study. I’ll see you to him, then take your things to his chambers. Will you be needing anything else?”

“No. Thank you, I’m alright. I had some lunch and I’m ok now.”

Holly led her up two flights of stairs and down a long hallway, leaving her at the entrance to a closed set of double doors. 

“He’s inside. I will see you at breakfast, Miss Maximoff. Master Strange was clear in his wish that the two of you be left alone for the evening.”

Wanda didn’t even know what to say. When the girl left, she pushed the doors open and stepped inside. 

Stephen was standing by a bay window, looking out over the city in the distance. As Wanda approached him, he turned to regard her. She knew she looked better now than she had the night before. She was actually wearing makeup and normal clothing, and her hair wasn’t a disheveled mess. The approval in his eyes warmed her. 

“Welcome back. Was it an enjoyable day?”

“I took a nap and freshened up. I wanted to make sure I was ready for our evening together. How was your day?” She had no idea why she felt suddenly shy in his presence, but she did. Stephen didn’t try to touch her or embrace her, not until she came forward and touched him first. He was still giving her space, respecting her boundaries and letting her make all the moves. 

“I had a bit of excitement in the early afternoon when a man plagued by demonic possession came to seek advice. But I was able to help him in under an hour. A simple matter, really.” He took her hands in his when she reached for him, lifting first one and then the other to his lips to kiss them. “You look beautiful. Would you like to relax a bit before we go?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Anything you like. It’s a bit cool out, so perhaps some time by the fire pit on the veranda? Just you and I, talking about anything you wish. And later on after dinner and a film, we can soak in the hot tub on the roof.”

“You have a hot tub?” Wanda’s eyes lit up. “But I....didn’t bring a suit.”

“Well then. I suppose I shouldn’t wear one either. Out of solidarity.” Stephen responded with a wink, and she could have melted right there. He actually had a playful side! She giggled, and he tugged on her hand to lead her out and down the hall to the large terrace doors she’d passed but hadn’t really noticed on her first visit. 

A little while later they were seated comfortably in chairs by the fire pit, watching sunset blaze across the sky in oranges and pinks. Stephen conjured a dancing figure in the flames to amuse Wanda, and she stretched out a hand and conjured one of her own. The tiny figures came together, each controlled by a mage, and twirled together around and around the pit. 

“No one’s been able to play this game with me before.” Stephen told her, pleasure evident in his voice. Wanda’s figure lifted up slightly to ‘kiss’ Stephen’s dancer, and she smiled. 

“It’s been a long time since I used my powers for anything, really. The bottom dropped out of my world for awhile there. I barely got out of bed.”

“I understand. How does it feel, coming to life again?”

“I’m hoping you’ll help me find out, Stephen.” 

Gently, he reached over and took her hand. 

“I will. Perhaps you can rouse me from my solitude as well. Would you like some hot chocolate?”

“I’d love some.”

No sooner had the words left her than a steaming mug appeared in her hands. 

“You’re a show-off.” She teased, raising it to her lips. The chocolate was as rich and creamy as her mother used to make, and she sighed in contentment. Stephen watched her with mild pleasure, happy that she was happy. 

“It’s been a long time since I was able to impress anyone with something as simple as a mug of coco. You flatter me.” 

Wanda wanted to toss aside the cup and submit herself to his lap, his arms, his kiss. But her shyness and reluctance to relinquish Vision’s place in her heart held her back. She took another sip, not looking at her companion. 

“I shouldn’t want you as much as I do.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Wanda. You’re a human being. Humans feel the need to connect.”

“We should...we should go. A nice long and lingering dinner, and then a movie. I need to change clothes though. Would you mind? Holly said she brought my bags to your room.”

Stephen nodded, ever the indulgent host. 

“Whatever you wish. I’ll meet you downstairs in the foyer. The car will be ready for us when you come down.”

It took her a half hour to get ready. 

She brushed her long red hair until it shone in waves down her back. The red dress clung to her emaciated figure and gave the illusion of curves. The high heels still fit. Finally, when she exited his bedroom and made her way to the stairs, Wanda felt beautiful. The sorcerer awaited her at the base, dressed more or less normally in dark pants and a sport coat over a wine colored shirt. No Cloak or tunic in sight. He looked gorgeous, and when Wanda descended the stairs and stood before him she felt the butterflies dancing a samba in her stomach again. 

Stephen smiled, the slight dimple in his left cheek showing. He admitted her into the protective circle of his arms, rubbing her back. 

“You look wonderful. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Famished. If you keep feeding me so well, I’m going to get fat.”

“A little extra weight would look good on you. Nothing could make you unattractive, Wanda. Are you ready?”  
“Absolutely. Let’s have a wonderful evening together.”

And they did. 

Stephen took her to a fantastic bistro, where he made sure she ate as much as possible, plus dessert. He had her laughing before the food was even served, and his charm and wit held her interest all through dinner. 

The movie was a brilliant black and white rendering of ‘Wuthering Heights’ that had her weeping within minutes. He held her hand from the very start. When she cried, he pulled her slim body against him and kissed the side of her head. This progressed to kissing her lips. Before Catherine was even dead, they were making out like passionate teenagers in the fifth row, oblivious to anyone else in the theater. Wanda, coming up for air after a bit, looked around guiltily to behold that the room was, in fact, empty except for them.

“Where is everyone?” She asked, her voice a breathy whisper and her lips red from kissing. Stephen drew her in again, and her eyes closed. 

“I bought out the show. It’s just us.”

“Oh my God.”

They hardly registered the change in surroundings even when they were in the back seat of the car on their way home. Still kissing. This was a thirst, a passion that both had kept in check for years and was only now finding its fulfillment. Together, fumbling and laughing, they made their way to the roof and clumsily shed one another’s clothing. 

In the hot tub, unashamedly naked and warm, Wanda straddled Stephen’s lap as they kissed. The air was chilly, but the night was clear and the water blissfully soothing. Two glasses of wine sat on the edge of the tub, forgotten. Something wonderful was happening between the two mages. Wanda’s heart, broken for so long, felt full and soothed. She took Stephen’s handsome face in her hands and stared into his eyes, and he quietly looked back at her without judgment or pity. Under the water, between her thighs, she could feel the solid evidence of his arousal. But he made no move to take her. Not yet. For now, this was enough. 

Wanda cuddled against his chest when he embraced her, and he cupped water in his scarred hands to pour over her shoulders and down her back. With a sigh of pure happiness, her eyes closed and she nuzzled his neck. 

“I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed an evening so much.” She told him. Stephen’s arms tightened around her in a hug. 

“I feel the same way. It’s been a long time since anyone except Wong has joined me in the hot tub. And he certainly never sat on my lap.”

They laughed together, and Wanda kissed his lips once, twice, three times. He was addicting. The taste of him, the feel of him, the warmth of his skin and the beautiful color of his eyes. She stroked his chest. 

“I want to know everything about you, Stephen. Tell me? Tell me your story.”

“Hardly a story for a pleasant evening. But I’ll indulge you. I was a surgeon at one time. A brilliant one, very well known and probably both hated and envied by people around the world. I had everything. Wealth. Fame. Money. Women. Power. Prestige. But I wasn’t happy. It took a terrible accident and the loss of everything to show me the path to happiness.”

“The car crash. I’ve heard about it, that you almost died and your hands were destroyed.” She leaned back a little and took those hands in hers now, studying the damage. “You must have been in so much pain. For so long.”

“It was a living nightmare. I couldn’t take care of myself at all for the first few months. Eventually, I was able to learn how to manage. But my career was over. I’ve never felt despair on such a keen level before. It was as though my entire world had shattered into a million pieces and I couldn’t see a complete picture anymore. My identity was so tied to my career that I lost myself. The Stephen Strange I thought I knew died that day in the car on a rainy highway.”

Wanda ran her thumb over a scar, reddened with the heat of the water. She lifted it to her lips and kissed it.

“How did you find Kamar Taj?”

“The same way most people there found it, I suppose. When you’re in enough pain, you seek for a solution no matter how unbelievable it may seem on its surface. I spent the last of my dwindling finances on a one-way ticket to Kathmandu and wandered around, lost and hungry, searching for a place I knew only by rumor. When at last I found it, I was fortunate to be accepted as a student. They taught me wonders of which I had never dreamt before. I spent many years there, practicing and learning. Reading. Growing stronger. Learning martial arts as well as the mystic arts. Eventually I became the Master of the New York Sanctum, and so it was that I found myself here when the world had need of me.”

She loved the way he spoke. The words he chose and the deep, calm cadence of his voice. It soothed her. 

“When Thanos sent his minions after Vision to take the Mind Stone, he also sent his servants to New York. I heard bits and pieces over the years. What you faced and how horrible it was.” 

“Everything unfolded as it had to. We wouldn’t have been victorious if a single moment had been altered.”

“But you were tortured.”

“Not the first or the last time that’s happened. I can handle pain well enough, and I don’t fear it.”

Wanda moved her palms across his chest, feeling again the warmth of his body and marveling at it. She took a deep breath, then reached for the button to turn off the underwater lights in the hot tub. They were plunged into darkness a moment later, only a few candles here and there around the tub. The distant sounds of the village were muted. The air was cool, but not unpleasantly so. Hesitantly, her heart hammering harder than it had in a long time, Wanda dipped her hand below the water between them. In the dim light, she could still see the glimmer of Stephen’s eyes. He simply looked at her, patient and calm. This was precisely what she needed. Patience and calmness. 

“You can handle pain, then. What about pleasure?”

“I can handle that too.”

His voice was so soft. So soothing and tender and deep and wonderful. Their eyes never strayed from one another as she rose up on her knees a little, just enough to take his shaft into her hand and guide the tip inside her. She moved her hands to his shoulders. His hands slid to her waist, holding her steady. They both stilled, the power of this hushed and holy experience washing over them. 

And then, in one smooth and slow movement, Stephen entered her fully. 

The sensation was so unbearably good that Wanda let out a tremulous sigh mixed with a whimper. He must have felt it too, because he groaned and closed his eyes, resting his forehead on her shoulder for a few seconds. 

“So warm. You’re so warm.” Wanda murmured. He touched her face, pulling her close to kiss her. They moved together, his deep and intense thrusts exactly what her body and soul had been screaming for. Tingles exploded along every singing nerve ending, her breasts rubbing against his chest and her thighs trembling while soft cries were pulled from her lips. It was actually happening. Stephen Strange was making love to her. Right here, in the hot tub. In a way that Vision had never taken her. Time held no purpose or meaning. There was only the feeling of his strong arms around her and the glorious pleasure of his length and thickness filling her, gliding in and out, causing an ecstasy that was so pure and so vibrant that it was almost painful. 

“Can you...your bedroom...” 

It was all she needed to say. Though he didn’t lift so much as a finger or utter a spell, they vanished from the hot water and reappeared a moment later in the fire-lit comfort of the master bedroom. In bed beneath the covers, skin only slightly damp, still joined together, Stephen rolled her onto her back and covered her with his body. She couldn’t get enough of him. Her hands moved all over his back and hips and shoulders and arms, and slid through his hair as she pulled him down to kiss her again. They were on fire, feverish and passionate. Each one finding in the other a physical joy so keen that it stole their breath away. Wanda had never felt anything like this. It was raw and human, feeding her soul with a nourishment it had never received before. 

“Are you alright? Am I hurting you?” Stephen whispered. Wanda shook her head, pressing her lips to his again. A second later she tensed, a powerful climax ripping through her and making her dizzy. Stephen seemed to know exactly what to do to cause the crescendo to cascade into another, and another, and another until Wanda was on the verge of losing consciousness. It was the way he moved, the way he reached down and gripped her hips and lifted them to drive even deeper within her. He was the most passionate lover she’d ever known, ever even heard of. When she screamed, he kissed her and drew the sound into himself. Wanda couldn’t even think, but in some hazy way she wondered where Holly was. If she could hear them. If it bothered the girl. If she’d be embarrassed the next day when they crossed paths. 

Tears were forming in her eyes, and she was helpless to stop them. She tried so hard to hold back, but a sob escaped her. 

“It’s alright. You’re alright.” Stephen murmured against her ear. He was out of breath, and she could feel him shaking too. Eleven years. This must be just as mind blowing for him as it was for her. 

“I’m sorry.” Wanda gasped. “I don’t know why I’m crying. You’re amazing.”

“Don’t be sorry. Let it out if you need to. Nothing that happens in this bedroom should cause you the slightest amount of shame.”

Unbidden, several fantasies suddenly unfurled across her mind at his words. There was a tingle at the base of her skull, and because she had the same power she knew in a flash what it was. He was reading her mind. She gasped, and he chuckled softly. 

“Easy, Wanda. Don’t be offended. This is for your pleasure. Lie back.”

He eased out of her, causing a brief and irrational stab of loss, and began to kiss a trail down her throat, between her breasts, down her belly. Wanda covered her face with both hands, already on the verge of another orgasm at the very thought of what he was about to do to her. Vision had never done this. She’d never even asked him to. But now Stephen was parting her thighs, his warm breath causing goosebumps to form all over her body. When his tongue touched her opening, she let out a sound she’d never made before. Something between a sharp intake of breath and a groan of pure shock and pleasure. 

“STEPHEN!” 

He didn’t hush her and he didn’t pause in his oral ministrations. Instead, his left hand moved up to find hers, and he held it. She was thrashing beneath him, all semblance of control completely gone now. The climax this time was different, the sensation emanating from a different region between her shaking thighs. Beads of sweat formed on her brow. She reached the peak of pleasure three times before begging him tearfully to stop. She couldn’t handle much more, and she knew it. Mercifully, he moved up to take her into his arms again, and when he re-entered her the feeling triggered another full-body explosion. 

And this time, with a groan that was almost a growl, he joined her. She felt warmth spread through her nether regions, another completely new experience, and he shook violently for a few seconds. So did she, clawing at his back and burying her face in the curve of his shoulder. The pleasure went on and on, until finally the two spent lovers lay still. Holding tightly to one another, catching their breaths. 

Wanda was crying again, weakly and exhaustedly, trembling like a newborn lamb. She doubted she even had the strength to speak. But Stephen didn’t seem to mind. He withdrew from her body and rolled to one side, gathering her into his arms and stroking her hair. Making soft soothing sounds, whispering loving and comforting words. Her sobs gradually tapered off. When she was quiet, he tilted her face up to kiss her cheeks and forehead and damp eyes and gasping lips. 

“I can’t....believe....”

“You handled that beautifully, Wanda. And you are an outstanding lover.”

“I can’t move.”

“No need to. Would you like a bath?”

“Oh God, don’t call Holly in here.”

“I had no intention of traumatizing the young lady. I’m fully capable of getting us to the bathroom and back.”

She heard the water turn on in the other room, and she closed her eyes and nestled into his embrace while the tub filled. They appeared in the steaming fragrant water a little while later. Wanda wasn’t shocked this time. It seemed natural to the sorcerer to travel this way about the Sanctum. He sat with his back against the porcelain, and Wanda sat between his legs with her back to his chest. He slowly rubbed her shoulders, tilting her forward to massage her better. The damaged hands were still strong, and it felt wonderful. 

“So that’s what it’s like to make love with a human.”

“Well, when you put it like that, it does sound a little questionable.” 

“You absolutely undid me.”

“I would imagine you’ll sleep extremely well tonight. Are you hungry?”

“Very. I feel like I just ran a marathon.”

And that was how, an hour later, the two of them reclined in their pajamas on the floor in front of the fireplace, eating pizza and talking like old friends. Wanda was amazed at how completely relaxed she felt. There was no awkwardness between them. No tension, nothing uncomfortable. Just a warm and nourishing closeness that dispelled every shred of the lingering frost in her soul that the death of Vision had caused. She still loved him. She knew she always would. 

But Stephen Strange was here, and real and alive and animated and interesting. He hand-fed her a slice of pepperoni and followed it with a kiss. The chilly and self-disciplined wizard held in awe and fear by the rest of the world was now showing a side of himself that Wanda thoroughly enjoyed. She put her hand on his knee, and he covered it with his own. 

“Would you mind if I stayed tomorrow too?”

“Not at all. Would you mind if I shamelessly seduced you again?”

“I don’t know if I can handle it.” Wanda laughed. 

Stephen tucked a long lock of her hair behind her ear, his pale eyes looking into hers knowingly. 

“Well then,” he said, a smile lifting his lips, “That’s something we’ll have to find out.”

Which is precisely what they did. 

~Fin~


End file.
